Surely Someday
by Maiden of the Moon
Summary: "And what would you like from the future, Ciel?" -SebaCiel. Part of the "Bicentennial" universe.-


**Author's Note:**Nope.

**Disclaimer:** This is still _not _what I'm supposed to be working on! Dammit, Hannah—! XD;

**Warnings:** SebaCiel. Implications of torture, I guess? Part of the "Bicentennial" series ("Bicentennial," "Inevitable," "Five Thousand," "Timetable," "Coffee Break" and "Cats and Dogs"); takes place before "Five Thousand." My usual slopping editing. Not the same sort of fluff as most of the "Bicentennial" series, but this is a scene that has been stuck in my head since the beginning. So I figured I'd write it out. :3

**XXX**

**Surely Someday**

**XXX**

**7:14 PM**

The rain fell.

With a hollow drumming sound, cold shards of diamond shattered upon benches, sidewalk, canopy; the trees shivered under the onslaught, their dying leaves crying pearly tears of excess. Above, on the busy roadway, cars and buses sliced through puddles that had once been simple potholes; below, beneath the arch of the concrete bridge, two figures huddled together in misty darkness. The taller one had his back to the damp gray wall, knees bent enough to cradle the smaller in his lap. Hidden in the shadows, he wrapped his arms more tightly around the little one, gnawing on his bottom lip as his companion's ragged breathing echoed through the gloom.

"…you will be alright, Ciel," he murmured (once again), tucking the other's hoary head beneath his chin and curling all the closer. Ciel managed a raspy snort in reply, feeble and delayed; his closed lashes flickered as he nuzzled weakly against the familiar chest. The white of his companion's shirt had long-since been smeared red, green, and yellow. Still, through the clinging odor of copper rust, the once-child could detect the sweetened-cinnamon smell of his butler. He savored the scent, as if it were a salve for the bruises, burns, and blisters that decorated his sagging limbs.

"I'm not worried… about myself, Seb… astian…" the not-boy whispered, hoarse and faint and barely audible over the downpour. The stink of earth and worm clung to the hazy air; he buried his face more deeply in the crook of his servant's neck. "You shou…ldn't have… done that…"

Sebastian's expression, already riddled with worry, tensed into a scowl. He readjusted his arms and legs so that, from a distance, he and his charge almost looked more one than two. "He was hurting you," the demon pointed out—or protested, rather, in a tone very much like a whimper. "I could not simply stand by. Not when…" Sebastian swallowed thickly, running anxious fingers through Ciel's gauzy tresses. Each strand shimmered in the wetness, as if individually glossed. Violets and roses had blossomed upon the corpse-white canvas of his face; like a china doll half-shattered on the floor, the sight was so beautiful and horrifying that it made Sebastian's heart ache.

The little devil managed another quiet grunt in return. His guardian counted each shallow breath that wafted through his dangling forelocks. "He won't… let me see y… ou… after this…" Ciel mumbled, the low lament punctured by teardrops from on high. "I don't know if… I don't know if I c- can…"

"_Hush now_," Sebastian demanded, a half-hiss that cracked with poorly masked emotion. He pulled that wounded body all the nearer to his own, stroking hair and back and nestling (gingerly) cheek to cheek. Ciel's shoulders jerked; he wished he could hold Sebastian equally close, but as it was, his arms refused to move. "Hush. You are speaking nonsense, young master. I care not for what your Contractor says—we will find a way to see one another. His covenant will only last a few more years… you have all of the future to look forward to."

"…mm." The not-boy made a muffled sound in the back of his throat, something akin to a dubious hum. "The future…" he then echoed blandly, the phrase as frayed around the edges as his sanity. He coughed once, a phlegm-filled rumbling, before choking out a frail giggle. "Huh."

Sebastian did not like the apathy with which his master considered the prospect. It was almost as if he didn't believe that… Forcing such thoughts from his mind, the butler offered an encouraging smile that the boy could not see, but could certainly hear. "And what would you like from the future, Ciel?" he asked in a hush, rocking their bodies gently back and forth. "What would you like to do when this is all over?"

"T-take a… vacation…?" The sarcasm was nearly tangible; it made the demon chortle.

"France again?"

Sebastian decided to interpret the guttural noise he next heard as a 'no.' "Very well," he soothed, pressing upturned lips against the crown of his master's head. "How about we stay in the country? I hear Iowa offers a delightful tourist trap called the Corn Palace. Or perhaps we might seek out the world's largest ball of twine? The possibilities are endless."

Had he the full capabilities of his lungs, Ciel most certainly would have laughed; as it was, he hacked in wry amusement for half a moment before shaking his head against his servant's torso. "I think… I'd rather die…" he drawled. But for as morbid and inappropriate as that statement currently was, at least there was a hint of humor in it; Sebastian chose to take comfort in that.

"Oh, come now. I wouldn't make you wear the Elmo hat," the devil persisted, teasing right back. "And think of how very jealous Will and Grelle will be when we tell them of our fascinating adventures in Iowa." He waited a spell for a retort, but it never came; the once-boy lacked the energy to carry on with such banter, so Sebastian tactfully brought the joke to an end. His frown returned, but Ciel was still breathing… he could feel each tired puff against his breast.

"…how about this," the demon proposed a minute later, in a voice soft and serious, subdued and saccharine. A sugar-coated happiness clung to words that ached with apprehension and sorrow. "We will take some time off. We will be full, so we needn't worry about our next meal for a few centuries… and I have plenty of jobs. We can refurbish my apartment, or maybe purchase a house. We will pass our days reading and listening to music… You could take up the violin again, or I could teach you piano. We will have movie nights with the reapers and play Monopoly with Finny, and you and Georgina can get into as many glaring contests as you wish. There will be parties and picnics and all manner of insanity, I am sure… and every night, we will fall asleep side by side. Probably after I have made love to you on every available surface." The devil allowed himself a restrained chuckle, feathering a kiss against his tamer's clammy brow. "How does that sound, Ciel?"

For a long while, Ciel offered no response. In fact, he made no sign that he'd even been listening. His skinny chest rose and fell, rose and fell; his downcast gaze grew fuzzy. But just when Sebastian was on the verge of true panic, he heard the not-boy mutter: "…I don't… really like Monopoly…"

Relief washed over the elder devil's face; nerves still tingling, he managed a genuine grin. "In life, we are all forced to endure things that we do not want to, baby bird," Sebastian reminded, in a tone that throbbed with understated affection. He readjusted his hold on his master, resting that wounded head against his shoulder. "It is for that reason that you will one day witness the splendor of the Corn Palace."

"…oh joy."

With a final, muted snicker, Sebastian allowed a foggy quiet to envelope them both—lulled into a state of semi-calm by the crystalline chime of rain, and the rhythmic pattern of inhale, exhale… inhale, exhale… inhale, exhale… The little one's slight weight increased a fraction as he more fully relaxed, and by the droop of his upper body his butler could tell that he'd fallen asleep. Sebastian felt his mouth quirk into the smallest of smiles, brow furrowed in some strange hybrid of sorrow and devotion.

"…do you know what _I _would like when this is all over, my lord?" he whispered, not loud enough to wake his master, but with enough vigor to rustle moistened locks of silver. Still wearing that smile, Sebastian lifted one limp hand to his pliant lips, tasting the skin of Ciel's ring finger. Then, with equally careful movements, he lowered that injured arm and returned to his watch.

"Someday…"

And the rain continued to fall.

**XXX**


End file.
